No Time To Chat [Michelle]

"There's no time to chat," I said hurriedly, pulling us both out of the memories that we shared. "They're almost here." I looked behind me. "Okay, they are here." So they weren't scared of me any more."

"Michelle, I am telling you to run. Now!" The doctor tried to keep his composure as he glanced at the things. "I'll be okay. They don't want me. I'm just the bait to make you stay here instead of getting away like you would if you weren't such an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot," I told him. "But I've lost so many people in my life so far: I don't want to lose somebody else. We're staying together, Doc." That was when I decided that this nickname would be his forever. "I'm not letting you go."

"Then we'll run together," he suggested. I turned, grabbed his hand with a fear-sweaty palm and pulled him towards the edge of the clearing, but the Voices were there before us and we were completely surrounded. Never before had I felt such a sensation of hopelessness. I almost couldn't bear it.

"Then we'll die together," I reponded morbidly.


I remembered very little about the moment they hit, and perhaps that's a good thing. I don't think I want to, because the only memories I have -- sweat and blood and the stink of rotting flesh, and above all the reek of metal and oil -- are ones I would prefer not to recall. But I do remember waking up.

"Doc?" I whispered. His hand wasn't in mine. "Doc? Are you there?" No answer. As soon as my eyes were focused enough to see I turned my attention to my surroundings, and was shocked to find that I almost recognised them,.

It looked slightly like one of the hospital rooms, with the same bed and the same colour walls. The dimensions, too, were similar. The main difference was that the window was round, and looked out on completely different surroundings. Well, I say different. What I mean is space.

Yes, space. Stars and all.

Obviously, the Voices had tried to copy my former surroundings, but hadn't managed it very well. Why on Earth would they do that? It couldn't be to make me comfortable, could it? After all, I had a horrid feeling that I knew why those girls had been found mutilated, and if I was right that would also be what happened to me.

There it was again, a fluttering within me: that was my fear. It was not the dull dread I had known before but a raging lion, something that could destroy me. The worst bit was that I was afraid of that, too.

The End

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